The War of Six Crowns: The Vanished Knight

Freedom

They entered the city. Callan took in the little shops with their big windows and rich displays. Dresses, jewels, breads, candies, spices, flowers, weapons and all manner of other goods adorned the windows, enticing people to enter and buy. People bustled in and out, carrying wrapped packages or having someone carry them. The mouthwatering scent of melted dark chocolate wafted through the air.

"That smells like heaven," Callan whispered. "I can't believe you have chocolate."

Kaela chuckled. "Trust me on this. When we see something worthwhile in your world, we'll find a way to make it work here."

"So...plumbing?"

"Well...our version of it," Kaela said. "We're not into foundries, so our plumbing works more like your ancient Romans'."

Callan frowned. "Why don't you like foundries?"

"Because at some point, someone will look at a pipe and think it's a barrel. We saw your wars..."

She let Kaela drift off, not wanting to think of something so bleak on a day so beautiful. Wispy clouds added some whimsy to the azure sky, but didn't obstruct the sunlight. The breeze carried blossoms from the trees lining the street.

Many pairs of women shared a horse. It had to be quite fashionable, even if it was silly, with their poufy dresses almost dragging over the cobblestones.

"Why are so many people riding tandem?" Callan asked.

"There's a legend about two sisters who rode into battle like this. We have a constellation named after them. I guess we emulate them as a tribute." Kaela glanced at another pair of riders and shook her head.

"Why though?"

"The sisters went to battle against insurmountable odds, sharing a horse because most of the army's steeds had been killed the day before." She sniffed. "Whether these women make for a fitting tribute is another thing altogether."

"Oh?"

"Look at them. Prancing and preening, trying to make the prettiest picture with the prettiest horse. Most of them never came near a battle. The noble ladies are the worst. Their idea of war is to gossip each other into submission."

Callan laughed. "Maybe they don't know any better."

"Perhaps, but then, what stops them? Nothing prevents a woman from taking up arms here."

"Maybe they're scared."

"They are, but then they don't exactly make a fitting tribute for the two sisters."

True. Callan resumed watching the bustling city. It was much more colorful than she expected. With the army in black, she would have imagined a more austere country. Instead, the civilians were well dressed. Yes, they wore dark clothes to accommodate work and fashion, but almost none of the civilians wore black. The noble ladies wore silks and satins and velvet in rich hues. Children scampered about in cheerful yellows and reds and greens. The many colors added a richness to the stark, coal-gray stone of which the city consisted.

"Everyone looks so happy here," she said, taking in the many smiling faces.

Kaela grinned over her shoulder. "Actually, most of these people have someone involved in some war somewhere. Don't be so easily fooled by appearances."

"Really? How many wars do you have?"

Kaela shrugged. "About five on other continents. We're... Well, I guess the word is 'mercenaries,' but that's not quite it. That's what we used to be, until everyone we got involved with realized that having us on their side won them their wars. So now we're more peacekeepers who get paid for finishing conflicts other people start. But don't tell anyone I told you. We don't like word getting to our immediate neighbors."